No, I won't tell you the due date...
I'm pregnant. Like really pregnant. Like due in two weeks, I can't breathe, walk, or move without my whole body seemingly screaming "get him out" Pregnant. Honestly, I'm miserable. Been a long and rough pregnancy. It involved one change to insurance, one genetics scare, 5 doctors offices, and a transfer out of state in my 8 month and establishing with a new OB. And a lot of bedrest/house rest.
My husband and I live and do mission work. Some things began to happen lately that were outside of normal ministry trials. Compounded by being so far from family help. We began to feel hated. We were told that outsiders rarely make it here. But something snapped when we found out we were pregnant. Like the people lost it.
They began to complain about the pregnancy. How difficult it is. How I'm not there enough. How my husband spends too much time trying to help me. How I can't really be a sick as he says I am. Honestly, the rejection was so profound when the doctors told us we might lose this child, I couldn't even ask them to pray for the baby. I've never felt such hatred and hurt.
My husband hasn't been assigned a new post. But he has been issued an ultimatum. Leave or be publicly fired with no financial help in your leave. And leave before the baby arrives. They've already looked to bring in a local because they don't want outsiders anymore. They only want people from here, born here, not come here's.
Leave this tiny peninsula. Leave your support. Leave with nowhere to go. And do it fast.
Easter Sunday. I felt so much pressure to be in service. The whole place felt dead. These people have had secret meetings and demanded my family leave 3 days before the baby arrives. And today those in leadership, ie Deacons and their wives, made a show about making sure they came up to me. Acted excited about the baby. When am I officially due? And how much they love me. Love me? When Monday you told my husband to get out? For no reason except you don't want us anymore?
It made me sick. Don't make a show of being sure other parisonioners can hear you pretend to care when you've taken everything out from under me and my unborn baby. They are mad because I won't tell them my csection date is May 3. Why should I? You want us to leave and never come back by April 30. I don't even want you to know he's coming.
I pushed my body to be a friendly face for my husband. I can barely walk now I'm hurting so badly. I'm angry and tired and broken. I understand why so many who serve God turn away from His church. I have no happy Easter pictures. I broke bedrest and risked my health.
I don't want anyone to know my due date. I'm too wounded to pretend publically like they aren't hateful behind closed doors.
This may be the worst Easter I've had ever. And I feel so alone in my fears and hurt and the physical pain caused by being in a rock hard pew under stress when I should've stayed home. But didn't feel I could.
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